Homesick

This is Ruru the cat again.  My brother has asked politely--for five or six weeks in a row--to take a turn on my blog.  My person mama had this cat when she was a kid just like him in personality and looks.  It's kind of funny that I'm the favorite right now when he should be.  Except he's really my person's cousin's cat.  He's just here for a long long visit.  Well, here's Scoutie.

Yay!  Ruru's finally letting me write a blog!  I'm so happy!  Now, what should I write about?  

This is Ruru again.  Dumb brother, you should have thought of that all these weeks you were begging to write a blog post.

Okay.  I got it. I like it here.  I like my person mama, the one who raised me until I was two months old.  I like the other people around here.  I'll let them haul me around and pet me and snuggle me.  I love chasing around my brothers and sisters.  But it's just not home.  At home, there is one cat [me] and five people standing in line to worship me.  Here, most of the time, it's  just one person and five cats.  Don't get me wrong.  They're nice to me and feed me around here.  But it's just not the same.  At home, I don't spend much time on the ground.  I no sooner get to sleep than someone grabs me and hauls me around.  Everyone loves and adores and hugs me.  They can't get enough of me.  It's so nice.  There are actual fights over who gets to hold me.  

Here, I have to actually ask to be loved.  I have to stand near a person and wait for them to notice me, and even then, there's so much competition, that I'm sometimes not noticed for hours at a time.  When my real people come to visit, I just melt into their arms.  You've never seen a happier, more melted cat than me when my people come by and hold me and love me and fight over me.  I wonder when they'll take me home to stay.  I know they said something about not being able to have cats, but I'm not just a cat!  I'm Scoutie!  I'm the sweetest cat in the universe.  One of these days, my people will take me home.  I live for that day.  

Cat Olympics

This is Ruthie again, your friendly neighborhood Cat Olympics reporter, audience, and participant.  It’s fun being a cat, especially on a week like this one.  Our events for the week included Chasing Each Other around the House all Night Long, Tomato Plant Killing, and Mouse Soccer. 

Chasing Each Other around the House all Night Long pretty much goes without saying.  With five of us in the house, we are each other’s best sports equipment.  On occasion, I’ll squirrel myself in the bedroom with my person.  Mostly, it’s just so boring.  She doesn’t do much for HOURS.  So I’d rather stay out and chase other cats around.  The dogs aren’t even out of bedrooms to bark at us, so it’s the best time to toss stuff off furniture, destroy stuff, and play tag. 

The annual Tomato Plant Killing event was much more special.  I understand we only get Tomato Plants in the house once a year, so we need to take advantage of this exciting event while we have it.  With all the freezing we’ve been having, our person mama brought in the tomato plants and, silly her, put them where we could kill them.  So we tossed them off furniture, chewed on them, and gave them all the love they deserve.  I don’t think our person mama likes this event much. 

Then there was the most exciting event of the week, Mouse Soccer.  This was more fun than last week’s Mouse Piñata because we ALL got to get in the game [won’t describe that one because some humans might find it a yucky, but let your imagination run wild].  It was great.  Like with last week, Toothless was one minute sucking on our person mama’s shirt, pretending to be an itty bitty, defenseless, toothless, mewling kitten and the next, terrorizing a fat mouse. Best soccer ball ever. 

That wasn’t the really fun part because he didn’t let us play.  You might find this part a little gross, but it was awesome.  He growled the whole time until it didn’t respond anymore.  Then, I got to get in the game, kicking and tossing the thing across the room while he refereed.  Everybody else watched every move we made.  It was very exciting.  For Toothless, at least, it was like dinner and a movie.  That fat thing lost most of its weight, like everything from the neck down.  We took what was left when he was done and ALL took turns chasing it across the living room.  Baby stole it more often than I can count, but I got in my share.  We got MILES of fun out of it, even into the next day.  I didn’t see who finally got the honors of disappearing it. 

There’s nothing better than Mouse Soccer except Mouse Tag FOLLOWED by Mouse Soccer, when I get to be in charge of the ball.  I’m good at that.  

An open Door is Love

I'm a cat.  I live in a house on a highway, so my people don't let me get out of the house, like, at all.  Drives me nuts some days.  Sometimes, I smell stuff outside that's exciting.  Well, now I really really want to be outside, but no one will let me.  Today, my person mommy did the most exciting thing.  Even more exciting that putting the foot rest up on the sofa, so we could play on and over and around it.  We got several days of fun that way until they put the foot rest down.

Well, today, something more exciting happened.  She opened the door.  Okay, so she locked the storm door, so we couldn't really get out and get flattened like my cat mama was.  But the door is open so we can SMELL outside.  We can feel outside.  We can almost taste outside.  Those bugs I talked about last week can get inside, so we can chase them and kill them, and better yet, eat them.  Man, we've had a lot of fun with that.  They're not as yummy as mice, but they're great to chase around.  And nothing beats sitting around in the sunshine that comes through that door.  I can feel and smell and taste spring!  I never got to meet last year's spring because I was born last summer.  Spring is my favorite time of the year.

Love at 977th Sight

This is Ruru, your friendly neighborhood cat blogger here again.  I have another guest blogger today.  All the other fuzz buddies in the house heard about how my annoying brother nabbed my blog for a week and I actually let a dog take over for another week.  They keep asking me when their week is.  So here's Maia.  I'm not really close to her since she's OLD.   She's been around for six and a half years.  Can you even imagine?  I've seen just over that many MONTHS.  She's middle aged for a cat.  And mostly, she's no fun.  She sits around a lot.  Toothless, my brother, has worked really hard to make friends with her.  And now, it's kind of hard to tell them apart.  Except I can smell the difference.  And Toothless actually likes me.  But anyway, just to get her off my back, here's Maia.

Don't listen to Ruth.  She's kind of a waste of space around here if you ask me.  The little girl fell in love with her at first sight, but I can't quite imagine why.  Toothless, he's my kind of cat.  Everyone keeps telling us we look like twins.  We're both Halloween cats.  I'll only give you bad luck if you mess with me.  

See, it was easy for little Ruth to find the love of her person.  It's taken me a lot more work.  I mean, a LOT more work.  I came here at six weeks old.  I was adorable and very maulable.  At such a young age, I would let anyone hold me and love me for hours.  The kids' mom has loved me all this time since I came here.  My own mom, the cat Cleo who used to live here, only occasionally cared one way or another about me. But then all these interloping cats moved in, and it's gotten kind of crowded.  It's really nice to have a buddy cat who cares about me, who wants to share a cat bath or chase me around.  That's new for me.  

But what I've really wanted my whole life since I came was the love of the person I picked to be mine, the boy.  I tried playing with him when I first came since there weren't any small kittens around but me.  He didn't seem to like the way I sneaked under his closed door or jumped out of the black to attack his feet.  I don't understand why he may have a problem with that.  Cats wouldn't.  So I have slunk around the house, ignoring everyone else except the kids' mom while waiting for my boy to love me.  It's really hard to ignore the dogs who like to chase me.  But I've done it all.  

My boy tried to adopt Toothless, but Toothless only had eyes for the kids' mom.  My boy became jealous over the bond his sister had with Ruth.  Finally and at long last, my boy noticed me.  He started to realize I hang out in his room all the time and will let him pet me like other fuzz buddies don't.  He's fallen in love with me.  It took more than six years, but I finally feel like I'm home.  

Hunting Season

People think the fall is hunting season.  No, for cats like me, spring is the true hunting season.  My brother caught and killed a mouse in a spectacular fashion, throwing it around for hours and growling at anyone who messed with his toy.  He was most upset when it stopped playing back.  At least he had fun.  My sister caught and crunched one of those funny little black things that keep flying around here.  I think they're called flies.  I keep hoping to catch one, too.  Or better yet, a mouse.  I keep stalking the same places he got his, but I haven't had luck yet.  

We also keep finding box elder bugs wandering around.  And that's only the beginning of the buffet line that comes with spring, or so the older cats keep telling me.  Moths, butterflies, mice, caterpillars...Wow, where have you been all my life, spring?  All seven months of my life.  I guess I kind of skipped spring all together last year, didn't I?  Ah, well.  I'm here now and ready for action.

Field Trip from the Abyss [AKA Class Presentation with Cat]

You won't believe the nightmare I was just put through.  Seriously.  See, I'm a cat.  I have lovely catlike days.  I snuggle my person in the morning.  I play with my brothers and sisters during the day when we're not sound asleep.  I sometimes let my person mommy snuggle me if I'm desperate enough for attention.  Things are pretty quiet around here.  Occasionally, there's a kerfluffle between a dog and a cat or two cats, but it's fine.  I know how the world works.

But recently, my person mommy stuck me in this nasty plastic box that smelled like other animals.  It was cramped and uncomfortable.  Then I was stuck in this box on wheels that moved really fast.  It made me kind of sick, especially the glimpses I got of other big boxes on wheels moving by just as fast.  My person mommy didn't even do anything when I called out to get out of the plastic box.  I think they call it "driving in a car," but I could be wrong.  It's horrible.  I don't see why ANYONE would want to do this EVER.

Then, my person mommy took me inside this big building that smelled like kids and kind of like food.  But nobody shared with me.  I was taken into a big room of other people who were not my people.  Little people who wanted to touch me and hold me.  But they are NOT MY PEOPLE.  The only good thing about the whole thing was my person was there.  She held me the whole time.  I think she was talking about me because she kept saying my name.  So after my person finished talking about me to all these kids sitting around her, then she hauled me around.  All these kids kept putting their person cooties on me that I knew I'd have to wash off.  They put me in that dreadful plastic box and THEN they brought out the yummy smelling food I'm pretty sure were cupcakes.  With milk in the icing.  AND THEY DIDN'T SHARE.  What are people thinking?

And just to add insult to injury, I was dragged back into the car thing and hauled through that loud, smelly horror of driving home all over again, and my person didn't even come home with me.  What were they THINKING?  I spent the rest of the day napping, washing off cooties, and dreaming of cupcakes.

Dumb Dog

So there's this annoying dog that insists she must be my guest blogger this week or else.  You see, I know and you now a cat like me is much more entertaining to listen to.  But this dog is so annoyingly persistent about wanting to write her own blog that I'll let her just this once.  Her name is Skittles, and she's my person's grandma's dog.  And she's really annoying.  Trust me.  But here she is.

Hi!  I'm Skittles!  I'm that cute one up above.  I'm way cooler than some dumb cat.  Even if I did stand in line behind her shyly, waiting to eat, when she was really tiny, I'm still way more awesome than any cat.  See, when I lived with Ruru and her crazy cat clan, I was really really shy.  I had just spent the first of my life living with scary dogs.  Here's one of them.  Look at that tongue.  She was usually licking the ground without bending over.  I mean, how creepy is that?  

 But I could handle her [sort of.]  the one I couldn't handle was this one.  I mean, I could have been her doggie treat at any time.  Why does anyone need a bull mastiff, anyway?  She was a HORSE not a dog. I'm really cute and little, a part poodle.  I have long legs, but I would curl up into a really tiny ball to hide from those scary dogs.  

After I left Ruru's house, I went to live with a sweet little old couple.  And I have them wrapped around my little toe.  Seriously.  I own that house.  I say jump, and they jump.  They complain about my refusing to eat anything that says dog food on the package [of course I can read; I can write!].  They whine that every time anything that moves and breathes comes down the block, I go nuts, barking, and want to chase them down the street.  Even the big ones because my ego has grown A LOT since I have learned I'm the center of these people's world.  They also complain that I will chew on anything that isn't nailed down if they're gone because I get anxious and lonely.  They also even complain that all I want is to be loved ALL DAY LONG.  I hear them complain about all of that, but I hear them doing that with adoration in their tone.  They LOVE me.  They were LOST without me.  I'm that awesome.  Okay, so I'm done.  That's it.  Back to you, stupid cat.  

Hey, this is Ruru again.  Really?  You call that a blog?  That's a BRAG, not a blog.  Show me to trust a dog with my blog.  Feel lucky that I don't erase it, silly Skittles.  I just want people to know cats are way better at blogging than some stupid dog.

What a real blogger looks like.